Bronze: True Heart 6
by K.Huntsman
Nanjou/Izumi residence
Izumi opened his eyes and looked into the darkness. He sighed, not being able to go to sleep, and turned over, looking at Kouji's peacefully slumbering form. He envied Kouji that peace. What he'd give to be able to stop thinking and just be happy.
But he couldn't be. He couldn't believe that it wasn't just an illusion that would come crashing down around him the minute he felt secure in it. He couldn't believe, no matter how he wanted to, that Kouji wouldn't betray him, leave him, as soon as the "hunt" ended. As soon as he was no longer a challenge, Kouji would leave. As soon as he fell in love.
Oh, but he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe the illusion that Kouji spun around him, the warmth, the ceaseless comfort of the spirit and the heart. And despite the times that Kouji frightened him, scared him, Takuto knew that Kouji would never hurt him, not in mind or body.
Soul was a different matter. Soul was something he wasn't sure Kouji fully understood; not his soul, anyway.
The only thing he'd ever truly wanted was a happy peace, and now that it was being given to him again, he knew that it would be taken away as soon as he accepted it. He wouldn't be able to live with that. He knew he'd lose his soul in the bargain. So he kept refusing it, just to keep it near him. Even now, when Kouji was asleep and couldn't possibly hear him whisper the words, he didn't say them. It was tempting fate. There was no happiness without hurt, so he took the lesser happiness of being near the peace, and the lesser pain of not touching it, in order to avoid the greater pain of losing it altogether.
He slid out of the bed and went to the living room, careful not to wake Kouji. He sat down and turned on the television, pressing "play" on the remote to the VCR. He remembered Kouji leaving a tape in there, and anything was better than the horrors of late-night television programming.
Titles flickered across the screen, and he realized it was one of Arin's music video tapes, off of the American's third album, Voices in the Wind. He watched as it started; they hadn't gotten to this tape the night Kouji had introduced him to Hanano's music. He'd gotten the impression from his halting speech that Hanano had preferred to forget his Japanese heritage, so it surprised Takuto when the first piece had a Japanese title, "Nikkou to Kagami."
"'Dust and Mirrors'?" he murmured as the opening instrumentation started. The screen showed a gentle sunrise as a violin and a shakuhachi played around one another's sounds, spiralling higher within the auditory range, until they finally joined into one final note, holding it for a moment, then let it die. Then the rock'n'roll sounds crashed in like a tsunami.
Izumi stared at the television, transfixed, as pictures flickered past his eyes, lovers searching for one another in a great city, alternating with memories of the deepest loss and the utmost urgency.
"How could you leave me? What did I say, what could I do...?" Hanano sang. Takuto suppressed a shiver; he could almost hear tears in that voice. "When will I find you again? Where are you?"
"If you want me,
who should I be?
If you hate me,
what's left to see?
I still remember;
I wait for you.
But you never come;
so we're through.
Love and longing
float through the air.
Need and heartache
are too much to bear.
Dust in the sky,
tears on my face.
Mirrors reflecting
your empty grace.
You're the one I want,
but you don't care,
so all the heart holds
is my breaking glare."
Takuto wondered who Arin had lost that he understood the heart like that. There was no mistaking the sadness in the voice, the true emotion that was so seldom there in Kouji's songs. That was Hanano's selling potential, he suddenly realized with a flash of inspiration. The pure emotion in the voice was what got to the audience.
Tanahaka Hotel Penthouse, Shinjuku
Arin sighed and turned over in her bed. It was no use; she couldn't sleep. She'd crossed how many time zones, and she was still an insomniac? Not fair, no fair at all. And Molly had taken the sheet music back to her suite so that Arin couldn't even work on it any more until after breakfast. That was definitely unfair, and it hurt.
She considered ordering down to room service, but couldn't really think of anything she wanted. Maybe a bottle of champagne and something to watch, but the alcohol would leave her with a headache in the morning when she'd want to be alert and listening to the music. She couldn't think of anything that she'd want to watch anyway.
Sighing, she burrowed deeper into the warm-cool sheets and waited, trying to think of nothing, trying to center herself, to focus, to meditate, to dream. All she got were little icy shivers going through her, ones that she tried to repress. They woke up sensation in parts of her that she normally tried to ignore.
She'd unbound her breasts tonight, indulging in a rare night of freedom after they'd gained the safety of the suite. There were no cameras to catch her secrets; 'Toni had checked the place out and ensured her of that. Gods but it had felt good to go free, even if she did have to wince at the marks and imprints of the cloth that criss-crossed her skin. Then she'd climbed into oversize pyjama bottoms and a top, and crawled into the king-sized bed. It was way too big for her; her bed at home was a single. So she curled up into a ball in one corner of it and left the rest alone while she fell asleep. She'd actually managed to doze for a couple hours before waking up again.
And now she couldn't get back to sleep.
Sighing, Arin slid out of the bed and crossed the room to her one bag that was still unpacked. In fact, it was locked, and the only key to it hung around her throat. She unlocked it now and opened it, reaching for the one thing most important in it.
She opened the door to the living room and saw 'Toni sitting there, reading a novel. She held the red wig out. "Can we go dancing?" she asked wistfully.
"Sure," 'Toni replied, setting down the book. "I'll go get ready."
Arin grinned.
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